


A Hand Through The Darkness

by bafflinghaze



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Bonding, F/F, Forced Proximity, Not so much magic lore though, Sharing a Bed, mostly pre-slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-28
Updated: 2019-03-28
Packaged: 2019-12-25 18:20:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18266861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bafflinghaze/pseuds/bafflinghaze
Summary: Pansy is a damn good independent witch and fashion designer. She doesn’t need—nor want—help. But when Luna Lovegood bonds to her—technically to save her—Pansy finds herself stuck in Lovegood’s inanely optimistic presence.





	A Hand Through The Darkness

 

It felt like a slash across her core, and her magic started to splutter out. She didn’t know who helped her to St. Mungos, she didn’t know who pushed her down onto one of the horrid beds.

Pansy trembled, paled, ignoring the Healer’s attempts at talk to her. The world was pain, the world was greying, and she needed Draco, the only person whose magic she could accept to help.

But Draco wasn’t here, and so Pansy’s world narrowed, and faded away in the scent of flowers.

*

Pansy woke. The perfume of grass and daisies made her head pound: she wasn’t outside, it wasn’t possible.

“You’re awake,” a voice said brightly.

Pansy grimaced and opened her eyes. “Loony,” she realised. “What are _you_ doing here?”

Lovegood’s smile dimmed. “I wanted to help, Pansy.”

“Who gave you permission to use my name?” Pansy said sharply.

Lovegood sighed. “I thought you wouldn’t want the reminder of your parents.”

Pansy decided to ignore her, and focused on sitting up instead. There wasn’t any of that pain...but there was a _twinge_ in her chest.

With a sinking stomach, Pansy followed the sense of her magic from her core...to Lovegood’s.

“What. Have. You. _Done?!_ ”

“You were hurting—” Lovegood started.

 _Fuck._ “Fuck!” Pansy said out loud. She threw back the covers and summoned her wand. Lovegood’s magic flowed damningly easily through her. With a wave of her wand, she dressed herself in proper robes, ignoring the ping of guilt at Lovegood’s wince.

“I’m getting _out_ of here,” Pansy muttered. She raised an incredulous eyebrow when Lovegood moved in front of her.

“We can’t be apart for the next week,” Lovegood said apologetically. “The bond needs the proximity until you are fully healed.”

The door burst open, in a Healer rushed in, followed by Draco.

“Lie back down!” the Healer commanded. “You are _not_ in the position to move!”

Pansy folded her arms. “I’m feeling _perfectly_ fine, _thank you_.” She shot Draco a glare.

A pained look crossed Draco’s face for a moment, before he firmed up. “Luna’s magic was a better match,” he said. “I want the best for you. Luna’s _good_ , Pansy.” He gave Lovegood a short nod.

Pansy pinched the bridge of her nose. _Fuck. Right_. Draco was doing his repentance thing. Why the fuck Draco thought he could be _friends_ with someone he had locked up in his own dungeons, Pansy didn’t know. But maybe Lovegood was loony enough to make it happen.

Pansy wanted no part of it. It was much more practical to _just move on_.

“I’m not going to _your_ up-side-down abode,” she shot at Lovegood. Sidestepping the Healer, Pansy exited the room, forcing everyone else to follow _her_.

“Then I can stay at your place,” Lovegood said, smiling once again.

“No.”

Draco touched her arm, and he didn’t even flinch when she glared at him.

“Why don’t you both stay at the Manor? It’s...neutral ground, of sorts.”

Pansy snorted. “ _I’m_ fine with it.” She eyed Lovegood.

Lovegood smiled back, clapping her hands. “Perfect!”

Pansy stared at her, then tossed her head. _Did Lovegood_ ever _frown?_

*

“This means _nothing_ ,” Pansy said, as she got into bed with Lovegood.

It was bad enough that they had to go to the bathroom together like a bunch of school kids. But the fucking bond, even now supporting the return of Pansy’s own magic, was tugging tight to Lovegood.

Lovegood shrugged. “Doesn’t everything? I sleep with girls all the time.”

“I imagine so,” Pansy muttered. She laid down, facing up. She wasn’t going to _face_ Lovegood, and she definitely wasn’t going to show her back to Lovegood either.

“Girls are nice,” Lovegood said, humming.

“What if I’m not a girl?”

Lovegood shifted closer. “I like you too.”

“We’re not friends.” But despite herself, her words came out softer than she wanted. She turned her head to face Lovegood.

Lovegood gave a dreamy smile. “I like you aesthetically too. I hope you don’t mind.”

Pansy stared at her. “And if I had spiky hair? If I shaved it all off?”

Lovegood continued smiling. “They’ll suit different you’s.”

Pansy snorted and turned her head back to the ceiling. “That’s what they all say,” she muttered, ignoring the urge to run her fingers through her hair. “Good to sleep, Lovegood.”

“Okay.”

A few minutes later, Pansy turned her head to Lovegood again. Lovegood was asleep. She wasn’t smiling anymore, but she looked content.

Something tugged in Pansy’s chest. _The damn magic bond_ , she thought. _Just the bond_.

*

“Are you two collaborating for the next fashion show?” Dennis Creevey asked eagerly, lifting his camera in his hands.

Pansy glared at him. “What? No.”

Lovegood bestowed Creevey with a smile as she had done with _every single one_ of Pansy’s assistants. “We are friends,” she said. “But that is a lovely idea.” She placed a hand on Pansy’s arm. “Don’t you think that would be beautiful?”

Pansy grimaced, as her mind started to imagine the contrast between their styles, a balance that would enhance each other: whimsical and gritty, colourful and monochromatic.

“Don’t you have pictures to take?” she snapped at Creevey.

Creevey pouted, but he trotted off.

Pansy turned to Lovegood. “It doesn’t matter anyway,” she said lowly. “You’re only stuck with me for another few days.”

Lovegood tilted her head. “But I want to be with you. I’m not stuck at all.” She leaned forward and pushed Pansy’s hair up from her forehead. And nodded and smiled. “Spiky hair would look dashing on you.”

Pansy flinched away. “I don’t have time for this.” She headed to the sewing rooms to check up on the progress.

*

“Pansy. Please let me help,” Lovegood said, drawing Pansy away from the overflowing desk.

 _If you want it done properly, do it yourself_.

“How do things go wrong when I’m away for just _one_ day?” Pansy scowled, fighting against Lovegood’s grip. She wanted to hex Lovegood, but her magic, _for some reason_ , wasn’t willing.

“Let’s have lunch,” Lovegood said, surprisingly firm. “I know a good place.”

In a lapse of judgement, Pansy let Lovegood apparate them. They landed by a quaint cafe overlooking parkland.

*

When Pansy finished eating, she sighed. With distaste, she forced the words out: “Fine. I’ll let you help. You’d be wasting your time doing nothing otherwise.”

“I wouldn’t be _wasting_ ,” Lovegood smiled happily. “Life is an opportunity for inspiration.”

“I think _your_ inspiration is much different from mine,” Pansy said drily. “Life’s fucking dark.”

“Yes! Exactly!” Lovegood leaned into Pansy’s space. “One is necessary for the other. Without darkness, we could not perceive light.”

Pansy grasped Lovegood firmly and apparated them back to her work offices. “Right, all the better to feel crushing disappointment when that light is taken away from you.”

Lovegood’s expression died down into a frown.

Pansy felt something stuck in her throat.

“Pansy...”

“Ugh.” She flicked Lovegood on the forehead. “ _Don’t_ you worry about my life.” With a wave of her wand, Pansy levitated over fresh bolts of cloth. “You can help me with this...”

*

“Did you find who did it?” Pansy asked the moment she saw Draco that evening. If it weren’t the bastard who shot that curse, she _wouldn’t_ have needed a magical infusion, and Lovegood _wouldn’t_ have bonded their magic together.

Draco cleared his throat. “Potter is working on it.”

“Harry’ll try his best,” Lovegood nodded.

Pansy regarded Draco, waiting for Draco to spill _something_ more about Potter. When Draco _didn’t_ , Pansy smirked. “I see how it is. Say, Lovegood, why don’t you invite Potter over for dinner as well?”

Draco spluttered. “This is my Manor!”

But Lovegood was beaming. “That sounds like a great idea! Let me owl him, right away!”

*

“This isn’t a double date, is it?” Potter whispered to Lovegood. “You and me, and Malfoy and Parkinson?”

Pansy rolled her eyes. Despite Potter’s volume, Pansy was standing close enough to hear—courtesy of the bond between her and Lovegood.

Admittedly, Pansy _could_ have stood further away. The bond was noticeably fading.

 _But if I stay nearer to Lovegood, I’ll heal faster_ , she justified to herself.

Lovegood laughed. “I think you’ve gotten it the wrong way round,” she said in a normal volume.

Potter shot Pansy a look.

Pansy raised an eyebrow back.

Potter rolled his eyes.

“What are you doing?” Draco hissed, eyes flicking between her and Potter.

Pansy gave _him_ the eyebrow too. “Pardon, Draco? Potter, why don’t you sit next to Draco?”

“ _Pansy!_ ” Draco hissed.

Pansy silently hexed him a tad. “Don’t you want to talk to him? Apologise and all that crap?” she murmured back.

“Oh. Right, exactly.” Draco flushed, and moved over to pull out the chair for Potter.

Pansy rolled her eyes. _Wizards!_

*

“We _could_ conjure two separate beds,” Pansy said, even as she got into bed with Lovegood.

Lovegood bounced a little on the bed. “I think big, shared ones are nicer, don’t you?”

“How about a big one for _yourself_?”

Lovegood gave Pansy a puzzled look. “But isn’t that lonely?”

“No,” Pansy immediately answered. She resolutely looked up at the ceiling and away from Lovegood. She forced herself to stay still as Lovegood shuffled over to her side of the bed.

“I thought today was fun,” Lovegood said.

Pansy dared a look at her. Predictably, Lovegood was smiling.

“We didn’t do anything _fun_.”

“Didn’t we? I got to see your clothes, _and_ we had dinner with Harry and Draco!”

Pansy put her arm over her eyes. “A darkly amusing _trainwreck_ more than _fun_ ,” she muttered.

“It _would_ be nice to host a fashion show together.”

“Find someone happier.”

Pansy flinched when Lovegood’s hand touched her under the covers.

“I’m talking about you.”

“I’ll think about it,” Pansy finally said. “Go to sleep. I’ll go with _you_ tomorrow, got it?”

“Oh. Thank you, Pansy.”

*

Pansy kept a disinterested air as she followed Lovegood around. Lovegood’s warehouse studio was filled to the brim with colours and sparkles, clothing and cloth, and _way_ too many smiling people. Even the _models_ smiled when the photos were taken—who _did_ that?

 _Lovegood, clearly_.

But amongst the outlandish designs, Pansy could see beauty. Lovegood might take inspiration from life a little _too_ literally (wearing grass and flowers, _really?_ ), but Pansy couldn’t fault Lovegood’s eye for form and structure and colour. If anything, Lovegood’s productions felt more like fantastical paintings than wearable fashion.

“Oh, Luna!” a witch gushed. “Are we going to collaborate with Pansy Parkinson?”

“A collaboration takes two,” Lovegood said with a fond little smile. “As yet—”

“Yes,” Pansy cut in. “We are.”

A smile blossomed on Lovegood’s face, as the flowers on her sun-dress bloomed. “Then we _are_ , Isobel,” Lovegood said, taking the other witch’s hand. She let go, and then took _Pansy’s_ hands. Soft and firm, and accompanied with the scent of increasingly familiar flowers. “This is great!”

Pansy shifted awkwardly. “Well, of _course_.”

*

Pansy hid the curl of jealousy as she watched Draco talk with Potter, who had, for some reason, been invited to dinner _again_.

“Don’t worry,” Potter had said to her. “We’ve narrowed down the suspects. And they _won’t_ get off lightly.”

And that was _good_ and all, but hadn’t Draco apologised to Potter yet?

Unless Draco was going the Lovegood route _again_ , and was trying to _make friends_ with him.

“Pansy, what’s your favourite dessert?” Lovegood asked.

“Cendol.”

Lovegood giggled. “That’s lovely. I thought perhaps you would prefer black charcoal.”

Pansy raised an incredulous eyebrow. “What? For the aesthetic? Black charcoal should not be food. Black sesame would be a better contender. Let me guess, _your_ favourite dessert would be...a fruit salad, or fresh fruit cake.”

Lovegood’s eyes lit up. “Why do you think so?”

Pansy shrugged one shoulder. “Inspiration from _life_. Why have artificial colours when there is a bounty of rainbow fruit? A light and fluffy cake is _entirely_ your style.”

Lovegood beamed.

Pansy looked away.

Draco was giving her an odd look.

Pansy scowled back at him.

*

 _It’s a disaster_ , Pansy thought pessimistically as her assistants faced off with Lovegood’s. _A disaster—_

She and Lovegood had just finished giving them a short visualisation of their combined vision.

Lovegood stretched out her arms. “It’s going to be so _striking_ ,” she said. “Let’s first start working on our individual styles, and we’ll begin to merge them over the next few days, exactly as how the show will go.”

 _Or not_. Pansy amended as she handed out the style briefs to everyone. Most of them looked interested as they flipped through the files. Lovegood was busy bring pairs of people together, telling them to work together.

 _She’s good with this unity thing_ , Pansy had to admit. The way she almost floated between everyone; how she shifted her demeanour to be serious enough that Pansy’s assistants could be won over.

Pansy paused when she realised she couldn’t feel the bond stretching tight between her core and Lovegood’s, even as Lovegood moved further away to talk with some of the others.

Pansy’s face lost its expression. She didn’t need a week of close proximity to Lovegood after all.

*

“Pansy! It was so hard to find you,” Lovegood said. She placed a large plastic cup with cendol on Pansy’s desk.

“Where did you get this?”

“I asked Dennis,” Lovegood said. “Don’t you want to have dinner now?”

“Look, Lovegood. Haven’t you noticed? The bond’s gone, now,” Pansy said. “You’re not stuck with me anymore.”

Lovegood looked confused. “But I’m _not_ stuck.”

“ _I don’t need your help any longer_ ,” Pansy gritted. “My magic is _fine_ now.”

“I like being around you.”

“Morgana, like how you _like_ being around Draco, who _bullied_ you? Oh wait, _so did I!_ ”

Lovegood’s expression dropped a little. “I thought we’d moved on from that. The past is set, but the future awaits us.”

“I’m not apologising for the past. It changes nothing,” Pansy said stubbornly.

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

Lovegood gave Pansy a fond smile. “Your actions every day show who you are.”

Pansy’s thoughts stumbled. “Ah. Exactly.”

Lovegood held out her hand. “Would you like to have dinner with me?”

Pansy stared at her hand. With a sigh, she stood up. “Very well. This once.”

*

Lovegood had kept her sun-dress, throwing a jacket on top; Pansy had transfigured her robes into a light coat. Dinner was in some laid-back molecular gastronomy fusion place in the pretentious part of London.

“I thought you would have taken me to one of those communal-tables places,” Pansy commented.

“I thought you might be more relaxed here,” Lovegood said with her customary smile.

“I would have survived.”

Lovegood grinned. “Next time, then.”

Ultimately, Pansy enjoyed breaking down the pretentious shit they were served; and if Lovegood laughed at Pansy’s comments...that just showed how witty Pansy was.

Pansy was loath to depart from Lovegood’s presence at the end of dinner, however, so instead the pair of them went for a walk down the London streets.

It was night, but not too cold, and the lights from the shops and the streetlamps and the muggle vehicles were more than sufficient.

“I think there is a night garden around here,” Lovegood was saying. “Neville mentioned it—”

Someone bumped into Pansy.

“Hey, get out of my way,” the man grunted.

Pansy gave him an incredulous look. “What, you expected _me_ to get out of _your_ way? Who are you, the Queen?”

The man’s face soured. “What? You’re a fucking b—”

Pansy socked him one in the nose. “Wash your mouth with soap,” she growled. “Come on, Lovegood, let’s move away from this trash.”

“He’s bleeding...” Lovegood started.

Pansy wrapped an arm around Lovegood’s waist and steered them away. “Serves him _right_. Let’s find that night garden.”

Lovegood sighed sadly. “I wish violence wasn’t the question, or the answer.”

“Unfortunately it is,” Pansy said pragmatically.

Lovegood visibly brightened up. “Well, that looks like the place Neville described!”

*

Pansy laid in bed by herself, feeling disquiet.

After Lovegood had left, everything had suddenly become _duller_. And Lovegood’s sad sigh repeated in Pansy’s mind. She didn’t like it. Lovegood didn’t _deserve_ those down expressions.

 _And what am I supposed to do? Protect her like a shiny white knight? Lovegood_ knows _the world sucks. She’s just optimistic_ regardless.

Pansy curled up on her side, wrapping her blankets tight around herself. She was in her own bed, her own flat. It was supposed to be _good_ and _normal_ again.

But she wanted to hear more of Lovegood’s bright words. Lovegood seemed to actually _like_ her.

 _But then again, she’s friendly to_ everyone, Pansy thought pessimistically. It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered.

*

Pansy saw Lovegood from afar over the next few days, in the sessions where they were collaborating.

 _Afar, and unattainable_.

Pansy watched Lovegood critically. The casual way she touched _everyone’s_ hands and arms, the smiles she gave _everyone_.

If Pansy didn’t know better, she would have thought Lovegood the epitome of a Hufflepuff-Gryffindor.

And what was Pansy, but a black hole, just like the clothes she made?

*

 _Potter caught the wizard who hexed you_ , said the owl from Draco. _He needs you to come to the Ministry to press charges_.

And Pansy did exactly so, eyeing the wizard who’d knocked her out like rubbish beneath her feet.

So why, then, did she not feel any better?

*

“Pansy.”

Pansy flinched back from Lovegood’s touch. “Yes?” she said sharply.

Lovegood had a concerned expression. “Are you well, Pansy?”

“Don’t worry, I’ll keep up my side of the collaboration.”

Lovegood shook her head, blond wispy hair framing her face. “I meant you, Pansy. Would you like to have dinner with me? I have a communal place in mind,” she added, smiling a little.

Pansy kept a flat expression. “This means nothing.”

“Meaning is as we ascribe it,” Lovegood said. She gently took the quill from Pansy’s fingers and took her hands into hers. “Come, Pansy.”

“I have no time for witches’ games,” Pansy said. “What do you want from me? What do you get from me by being _nice_?”

Lovegood shook her head. “I would never—”

“Exactly. So _stop_ acting like my girlfriend. Go have dinner with your _actual_ friends.”

“But...you _are_ one of my friends...”

“Then what is this dinner supposed to be?”

“Pansy, what do _you_ want it to be?” Lovegood pulled Pansy’s hands to her chest, and Pansy breathed in sharply, the scent of flowers tugging like nostalgia.

“Nothing you can give me,” Pansy finally said, taking her hands back. “Let’s just go. It’ll make _you_ happy, right?”

*

The restaurant was grungy with concrete and exposed metal pipping. The only tables were long rectangular ones, set for multiple different groups.

“Oh, what are you two beautiful girls doing?” asked one of the men at the communal table the waiter had led them to.

Pansy glared at the man, and then his friend for good measure.

Lovegood laughed. “I think Pansy is handsome, don’t you?” She slipped into the chair next to Pansy, the table tight enough that her feet tangled with Pansy’s. She smiled at Pansy. “Why don’t you order for me?”

Lovegood appeared to have a good time talking to the two men about her fashion work.

Pansy could see the looks the two men passed between themselves.

“Look,” one of them said pleasantly, after they had finished dinner, and Pansy had gotten the bill. “Why don’t we continue talking? Want to grab, you know, dessert, with us?”

Lovegood laughed. “No thank you. We’re both gay, you see.”

Pansy shot Lovegood a look. She had been so _sure_ Lovegood would miss the innuendo, and had prepared her fist for a punch, just in case.

“A girl like _you_?”

Lovegood beamed. “Yes.” She got to her feet, and tugged Pansy up too. “I’m trying to seduce Pansy, I hope you understand.”

The two men gaped. Pansy was impressed.

Lovegood giggled, threading her arm around Pansy’s. They left the restaurant, and the cool air hit Pansy like a waking charm.

“I didn’t think you had it in you to do the pretend-dating to throw off men,” Pansy said.

Except, Lovegood blinked and tilted her head. “But I’m not.” She curled her fingers with one of Pansy’s hands. “Is it working?”

“Snogging? Sex? Is that what you want?”

Lovegood had a hurt expression. “I...we’re compatible. I thought...”

 _Fuck, what am I_ doing?

“You’re friendly with _everyone_. What am I supposed to _think_?”

“I liked sleeping with you.”

Pansy pinched the bridge of her nose with her free hand. “Look, so did I, but we _had_ to because of the bond—”

“We didn’t _have_ to,” Lovegood shook her head. “We could have had two separate beds. We wanted to...didn’t you want to?”

Pansy swallowed, looked away from Lovegood’s earnest, open face.

“I missed your company,” Pansy admitted in a rough voice.

“Me too,” Lovegood said, smiling happily. She hugged Pansy’s arm. “I’m glad. Can I come to your place tonight?”

“I...suppose so.” Pansy sniffed. Her arm was being pressed against Lovegood’s chest, and when Pansy turned, her nose was almost in Lovegood’s hair. “What perfume do you use?”

Lovegood giggled. “Would you believe me if I said I roll down grassy, flowering hills?”

Pansy stared at her.

Lovegood tilted her head. “You still think of me as Lovegood. You can use my name.”

The name _Luna_ paired with her silvery eyes and the moonlight in her hair—it was a heady mix for Pansy. It made it _real_.

Despite herself, Pansy found her eyes trailing down _Luna’s_ eyes, mouth, neck, to the opening of her dress—

 _Luna_ laughed. “Take me home, Pansy.”

Pansy forced her eyes up. “And if it doesn’t work out?”

“But we have to try,” Luna said, shrugging. She drew apart from Pansy and twirled round, her dress flaring out pleasingly. “And if we try, we _could_ make something beautiful. Together.” She held out her hand to Pansy. “Shall we?”

Pansy’s eyes swept down. A beat later, she looked up.

Pansy took a step forward and took Luna’s hand.

Yet it felt more than that. It felt like a shift, an opening for a future maybe-something-good-can-happen.

 _And maybe_ , Pansy thought as Luna smiled at her, tugged her closer, _maybe something good can happen after all._

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> You can also find me on [tumblr@bafflinghaze](http://bafflinghaze.tumblr.com).


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